Keeper of Brothers and Sisters

Son of man, I have made a watchman for the people of Israel, so hear the word that I speak and give them warning from me [Ezekiel 33:7, New International Version, a portion of the alternate OT reading appointed for this upcoming Sunday, the Fifteenth Sunday after Pentecost, RCL, Year A].

I vividly remember an “encounter” that Todd—my twin—Jeff—two years our junior—and I had with our father when I was about 10 (at 16-years-old, Terry was exempt from this unpleasantness). I don’t remember specifically how we had misbehaved, only that we had. I suspect that whatever our transgression, it was not that transgression’s first appearance. In any event, our father rather quietly called us together, wrinkled his brow, gave a heavy, pensive sigh, and asked, “Do you boys have any idea how tiring it is for me to be in charge of you?”

I’ll confess that until that moment I had never viewed my transgressions in that light. I’d never considered the full anguish that my parents felt when I strayed from the straight and narrow. I’d been taught, of course, that God saw everything I did. I suppose I thought that my level of sin—particularly the level that a ten-year-old could have performed or omitted, was between God and me. As the Ezekiel text teaches, it is not.

Perhaps you can tell that I’m struggling a bit with my word picture here, but I suppose that until that encounter, I had not seen my dad as a sentinel—a watchman. Only much later, when I became a dad myself, did I gain an appreciation for the one whose responsibility it is to stand vigilantly and watch for signs of danger.

More than two and one-half millennia ago, that, of course, was Ezekiel’s role. He was a sentinel—a watchman—only not for some rowdy boys, but rather for the stubborn and rebelious nation of Israel. As you know, Ezekiel was a Jerusalem priest, in all likelihood part of the first group of exiles who were deported to Babylonia along with King Jehoiachin in 597 B.C., ten years before the destruction of Jerusalem and the more general exile. All his activity as a prophet took place in Babylonia.

Ezekiel didn’t volunteer to be a watchman. Nor did he win an election that empowered him to take his post. All evidence indicates he wasn’t paid to perform his duties. As this week’s alternate OT reading teaches, Ezekiel was called or chosen by YHWH. And what was Ezekiel to watch for?

Was Ezekiel made a watchman to scour the horizon for hostile troops? No; the Babylonians had already come over the horizon. They’d already defeated King Jehoiachin, carrying him, Ezekiel, and others away. No, Ezekiel wasn’t so much to watch for danger as he was to listen.

When I say to the wicked, “You wicked person, you will surely die,” and you do not speak out to dissuade them from their ways, that wicked person will die for their sin, and I will hold you accountable for their blood. But if you do warn the wicked person to turn from their ways and they do not do so, they will die for their sin, though you yourself will be saved [33:8-9].

YHWH was reminding Ezekiel of something that all too often the modern church has forgotten: that when God has uttered a warning, when God has communicated a wrong—a transgression—those who hear the warning have a special obligation to warn the transgressors to amend his/her/their ways. Those who hear the warning may not just heed it on their own; they must communicate, dissuade, even cajole the others.

Some of us might appropriately ask, “To what end? If the verdict is in, if the wages of sin are death, then what can be done?” Ah, yes, the verdict is in, but the judgment on the verdict has not yet been fully executed. There is still some hope. When the transgressors cry out in sorrow, “How then can we live? [33:10b], Ezekiel, the watchman is instructed to tell them:

Say to them, “As surely as I live, declares the Sovereign LORD, I take no pleasure in the death of the wicked, but rather that they turn from their ways and live. Turn! Turn from your evil way! Why will you die, people of Israel? [33:11]

In Ezekiel’s message, we see that the life of God and the life of humanity are undeniably bound together. God has no pleasure in death; He cherishes humanity, and will later show it through the life, death, and resurrection of Jesus Christ.

God faces an interesting, crucial challenge. Having offered and given humanity free will, the only way to reverse the guilty verdict is for those who are guilty to cease being guilty. That, of course, includes even the watchman. The choice of life or death is, therefore, for each of us. The duty of the watchman is to point out the danger, to communicate the warning. If the people hear Ezekiel’s warning, if they turn from the path of death, they will find a new and open highway—the way of life.

One of the ironies of our Faith is that the all-powerful God will not coerce repentance. God knows that if God did that, it wouldn’t be repentance. Instead, God calls sentinels and watchmen/women. God calls some to give words of warning and words of grace. Another irony, of course, is that both the warning and the grace come from the same source.

Finally, particularly for those of you who have ever been called to be sentinels—my sincere belief is that the number of God’s sentinels is much larger than many of us would think—you may wonder, “How is it fair that God gives me the responsibility of communicating the warning (and the grace)? How and why can I be judged if I turn away from my own transgressions and yet remain silent as to the transgressions of others? Shouldn’t I just stay out of their business? No one seems to listen. I’m so weary of shouting my warnings only to have them ignored.”

The answer is found in the manner in which YHWH addressed the prophet in verse 7. The Creator of Heaven and Earth said, “Son of man, I have made you a watchman ….”

As you know, I don’t do either Hebrew or Greek. But my commentaries indicate that the Hebrew used for “son of man” (instead of “son of man,” a number of translations utilize the words, “So you, mortal, …”) is “ben Adam.”

We’re all in this together. Might we be reminded of the question wearily asked by the first ben Adam, that is, the first son of Adam: “Am I my brother’s keeper?” (Genesis 4:9). You know the answer to that one.